11. Carson James
11
CARSON JAMES
“B
ring it up in the back.” Christian’s voice crackled over the radio as we collectively guided the herd deeper into the west pasture.
Anny grunted in annoyance from beneath me as her hooves thundered into the ground.
I didn’t blame her.
Granted, it was mostly my fault that we were having to do a herd move.
Sadie, the ranch’s retired cattle dog, was in her element. She circled the stragglers as we gently urged the animals to move to more forgeable fields.
We had been rotating them west anyway. I may have just let them move a little farther west than we usually would have. Causing a little havoc at the restaurant and lodge was the icing on the cake.
The chorus of lowing cattle, stamping horses, and yips and barks from the dog was music to my ears. This was how the ranch was supposed to be.
“You ready to talk?” Christian asked as he and Libby slowed up to fall in line with Anarchy and me.
“Not particularly,” I said as Anny took the pressure from my boots as a cue to get away from Christian.
It didn’t work. Christian was too seasoned a rider to let me get away that easily.
“Too bad. It’s time for you to get your head out of your ass. You’re acting like a child. And since my girls are almost grown and out of the house, I’m not too keen on parenting anyone else these days. You can throw your temper tantrums all you want, but it’s not changing reality.”
My grip on the reins tightened. I could feel the shift in Anny’s demeanor as she reacted to my energy.
My horse wasn’t an asshole by nature. She reacted like one because I reacted like one.
“And when we’re done moving cattle, you can get a shovel and clean the shit off the walkways, parking lot, and the grass up front. I’m not making the lodge or restaurant staff pick up after your little prank,” Christian said.
Resentment was a quick-acting drug. It flooded my body, pulling me deeper and deeper into an inescapable abyss.
“There are other ranches, you know,” Christian said.
I yanked on the reins and Anarchy came to a screeching halt. “The fuck just came out of your mouth?”
Christian knew exactly what he’d said. If I were a betting man, I’d say he threw it out there just to piss me off. The look on his face as he glanced over his shoulder told me that he wasn’t bluffing, though.
The ranch hands kept the herd moving, but Christian and I were frozen in a stand-off as we sat astride our horses.
His jaw was set in a hard line. “This ranch is a choice. You don’t have to be part of it. Nate chose to go into the military. Ray rode bulls. This land is a birthright, not a death sentence.”
I shifted in my saddle and looked away from him.
“Your last name means you will always have a place here, but only if you choose it,” he continued. “And right now, you’re not acting like you want to be part of the legacy. I know you haven’t been happy here for a while. Not since the construction started. But we’re not turning back the clock. We won’t survive if we do. Would it really have been better if we sold out to a big corporation and became a cog in a giant industrial machine? To become a conveyor belt for beef instead of ethical, sustainable ranching?”
The question lingered in the air for a moment before he continued. “It was that, or we found our own solution. Dad said something to me that hit. If someone is willing to bet on you, maybe you should bet on yourself. So, we made that bet. Doesn’t mean it was an easy call. Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t.”
He took a deep breath and his eyes met mine. “Either you come to terms with the direction of the ranch, or you put in your notice.”
“You can fuck off,” I muttered, kicking Anny into high gear.
Dusk had fallen by the time we got the herd deep into the west pasture and I made it back to the restaurant and grabbed a shovel. There was something humbling about scraping piles of shit off the ground. It seemed like a fitting metaphor for my life as of late.
One steaming pile after another.
Warm lights glowed from the lodge as guests settled in for the night. Muffled music floated through the air, accented by the scrape of the spade on the concrete sidewalk with each scoop.
“Heard about your little stunt.”
I spun at the sound of my brother’s voice. Ray was pushing his wheelchair up the paved walkway. Brooke walked beside him, keeping one hand on his chair for support and one hand on her belly.
I grabbed the hem of my shirt and used it to wipe the sweat off my face. “What are y’all doing out here?”
“Date night,” Brooke said as she smiled at Ray. “Momma’s got Seth at her house so we could eat without also feeding a toddler.”
Ray gave me a half-cocked smile. “It’s kinda nice not having to leave the ranch. It’s a lot of effort for both of us these days.”
Life had changed so quickly for both of them. Ray went from being a champion in the rodeo circuit to waking up in the hospital, paralyzed. Brooke had come into his life when he was an angry son of a bitch and chipped away at him, piece by piece.
The change in him was night and day. It didn’t surprise me in the slightest when they married quickly and didn’t waste time starting a family.
“I begged Lennon to keep that brisket corn chowder on the menu. It’s the one thing I’ve been craving all week, and I might cry if it’s gone,” Brooke said.
I didn’t miss the way Ray couldn’t keep his hands off Brooke whenever he wasn’t actively pushing his wheelchair.
Brooke squeezed Ray’s hand. “I’m gonna run inside and go to the bathroom.” She offered me a sheepish smile. “I swear, this baby thinks my bladder is a trampoline.”
Ray waited until Brooke had disappeared through the stately wooden doors of the restaurant.
I could read the look on his face like a goddamn book. It was the same one Christian had been wearing earlier.
“I already got an earful from brother dearest,” I muttered as I went back to shoveling shit.
Ray chuckled. “I’m sure you did.”
“So I don’t need it from you too.”
“I wasn’t going to give it to you,” he said.
I eyed him suspiciously. Something was on his mind, but if it wasn’t Christian’s high-horse speech reimagined, I didn’t have a clue what it was.
“You know what I appreciated about you after I moved back to the ranch?” he said.
“My great sense of humor and charming personality?”
Ray laughed, and I flipped him off.
“No,” he said as he scratched at the scruff on his jaw. “I appreciated that you didn’t hover. You knew I was going through shit. Everyone did. But you didn’t pester me about it. I always knew in the back of my mind that I could bring it up to you if I needed to.”
“What are you getting at?”
“You know where my house is. I’ve got a deck chair for you to sit in if you want to talk to someone you don’t have to work for.”
“I’m fine,” I muttered.
Ray looked at me for a moment with an acute sadness in his eyes. “‘Fine’ is the biggest lie we force ourselves to believe. You’ll feel better when you admit you’re not fine than when you try to pretend you are.”
“Don’t need to talk. It is what it is.”
He shrugged. “Offer stands.”
I watched as he wheeled inside and met Brooke in the lobby before peeling my eyes away and getting back to work.
The air was cold as I made the walk back to the barn to drop off the shovel I had pilfered from the stables.
I did a cursory walkthrough, making sure the animals were taken care of and that nothing was out of place.
Brooke ran a tight ship. As cheerfully scatterbrained as she had been when she first came to the ranch, it seemed like leaving the distractions that plagued her behind helped her settle down.
When it came to the equine program, her babies, or Ray, she was always on top of things. Cassandra had taken Brooke under her wing and given her structure and leadership. As far as sisters-in-law went, Brooke was cool. I didn’t mind having her around, and we got along just fine.
On top of that, she had Anarchy wrapped around her finger. I swear my horse liked her better than she liked me.
Instead of heading back to the bunkhouse, I let myself into the ranch office. I didn’t feel like being around the guys or my family. When my head was loud, I used to go up to the lake when I needed a little clarity. Unfortunately, there was a fifty-room lodge there now.
Sitting on my land.
The office door screeched as I shoved it open. Mickey lifted his head from the corner where he had fallen asleep.
“Sorry, dude. Didn’t mean to wake you,” I said as I shut the door behind me. “Too loud out there for you too, huh?”
Mickey let out a deep, bellowing huff and went back to sleep.
I dropped down into Cassandra’s desk chair and spilled backward when the seat tipped with my weight. I grabbed the edge of the desk and heaved back up.
“You think she’s got a screwdriver in here?” I asked Mickey as I rifled through the drawers. “This chair needs to be tightened up.”
He didn’t answer, but I didn’t mind. I probably would have shit my britches if he had.
The first two drawers were a bust. I didn’t find anything except throwing knives and whiskey. I glanced over at the wall to see which picture was tacked on the target as evidence of who had pissed off Cassandra this week. A photo of the entire town council was pinned to the wooden target hanging on the wall. The stab marks in the paper were a clear answer.
A file folder on top of the desk caught my eye. Maddox, E.
Maddox...That was Lennon’s last name. The ‘E’ could’ve been a typo.
The folder was unusually thick to be employment records for someone who had started work a few weeks ago. It should have only been a few tax forms. Maybe an application or resume.
I abandoned my search for the screwdriver and flipped open the folder. “What are you hiding, trouble?”